Chapter 93: Deep Affection, No Regrets

Suddenly, she heard Feng Ze’s anxious, frustrated whisper, and Shen Qianmo’s heart skipped a beat.

She turned and saw Feng Ze struggling to sit up from the bed. But as he moved, his back wound was tugged, making his brows knit tightly in pain, his face pale as paper. She quickly scolded him, “Don’t move about. I just finished applying medicine to your injury—I don’t want to waste my best healing salve.”

Feng Ze paid her no heed, stubbornly sitting up with difficulty, intent on snatching the drawings from her hands.

These were his deepest secrets, the only beautiful hope he held. He neither wanted her to know, nor could he allow her to find out.

If Qianmo discovered his feelings, perhaps they could not even remain friends.

Seeing his urgency, Shen Qianmo frowned, feeling this matter was troublesome. She set the paintings aside, walked to him, looked him in the eye, and gently asked, “Feng Ze, are the women in these drawings me?”

His gaze flickered, and he avoided her eyes, silent for a long moment. Then, as if making a decision, he looked up, meeting Shen Qianmo’s gaze, answering firmly and resolutely.

“Yes.”

If escape was impossible, it was better to admit it openly. Feng Ze suddenly wanted to try; he wished to know, in Shen Qianmo’s heart, how much he truly mattered.

Facing Feng Ze’s intense gaze, Shen Qianmo remained calm and her tone steady. “Then, you refused the marriage decree with Princess Qionghua because of me?”

“Yes.”

“But you know I am with Prince Xuan…”

“I know very well—you and Prince Xuan are deeply in love, your feelings profound.” Feng Ze interrupted, then gave a self-mocking smile, speaking softly, “I’ve told myself countless times to let go, but I can’t, Qianmo. I just can’t…”

Feng Ze’s handsome, resolute face was full of struggle, and the boundless pain in his eyes shook Shen Qianmo deeply.

When did Feng Ze’s feelings for her become so intense?

But in matters of the heart, Shen Qianmo detested entanglements and ambiguity most. Having chosen Meng Yuanheng for this lifetime, she would not waver. No matter how deeply Feng Ze loved her, she could not reciprocate.

“Feng Ze, I’m sorry. If I ever did anything to mislead you, I apologize. The first time I met you, I felt a special affinity because…”

“Because I resemble someone you once knew, isn’t that right?” Feng Ze interrupted again, his smile tinged with sorrow.

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“So you already knew,” Shen Qianmo nodded. “That’s right, you look very much like an old acquaintance of mine, Yuan Lie. For some reason, I may never see him again. That’s why, Feng Ze, I especially don’t want to lose you as a friend…”

“Friend…” Feng Ze’s expression darkened, and he murmured dejectedly, “Is that all we can ever be?”

“I’m sorry.” Shen Qianmo was clear in her heart—she felt no romantic affection for Feng Ze, only the camaraderie between friends. To avoid giving him false hope, she steeled herself and said, “Now that you’re awake, it’s best I don’t linger. Feng Ze, your injuries are severe; you need rest. I’ll take my leave.”

Shouldering her medicine box, Shen Qianmo resolutely turned toward the door.

“Qianmo, no matter what, my feelings for you will not change. Whatever the outcome, I will never regret it.”

Just as she was about to step out, Feng Ze’s deep, stubborn voice sounded behind her.

Her footsteps faltered. She turned to look at him, softly lamenting, “Feng Ze, why must you make things so hard for yourself?”

Feng Ze smiled bitterly, his face full of anguish. He gazed at her intently and asked in a low voice, “Qianmo, if… if you and Prince Xuan had not been decreed to marry, would you have accepted my feelings?”

Shen Qianmo was silent, then finally replied in a low voice, “No.”

With that, she no longer paid heed to Feng Ze’s disappointment and sorrow, and left decisively.

Though the undisguised pain in his eyes tugged at her heart, she knew her own feelings clearly.

Even if Meng Yuanheng had never appeared, she and Feng Ze could only remain friends—just as she and Yuan Lie, who had worked together for years, never developed any romantic feelings.

Once her heart was set, she would not give him false hope. In this, Shen Qianmo was indeed resolute.

As she stepped out, she encountered Madam Chu, Jiang, who was bringing decoction. Shen Qianmo told her, “Madam Chu, General Feng is awake; it’s best he takes the medicine while it’s still warm.”

Jiang was delighted to hear Feng Ze was conscious and quickly instructed servants to bring the medicine in and help him drink it.

When Shen Qianmo bid farewell, Jiang insisted on escorting her to the gate of the General’s residence. As they walked, Jiang said, “Miss Shen, your medical skills are truly remarkable. That my son Feng Ze could meet such an extraordinary woman as you is his good fortune.”

Though her words were discreet, Shen Qianmo caught the probing intent. She smiled lightly, replying, “Madam Chu flatters me. Please just call me Qianmo. Is there something you wish to say?”

Seeing Shen Qianmo’s sincerity and candor, Jiang’s fondness for her grew.

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What a pity, she thought. This rare, bright and perceptive woman, already betrothed to Prince Xuan from an early age. Her foolish son simply lacked the luck.

She sighed, took Shen Qianmo’s hand, and said, “Qianmo, you are a sensible person—I’ll speak frankly. Feng Ze has feelings for you. In these past days of his fevered delirium, he kept calling your name. I couldn’t bear it, and since you are skilled in medicine, I invited you here. This is a mother’s selfish wish; I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s nothing, Madam Chu. No need to worry.” Shen Qianmo saw she already knew, so she didn’t hide it. “I’ve always regarded Feng Ze as a friend and don’t want to lose him, but regarding his feelings for me, I really…”

“I understand.” Madam Chu patted her hand sympathetically. “You and Prince Xuan have long been engaged. Feng Ze shouldn’t harbor such thoughts, but he’s stubborn. I fear he won’t let go so easily. Alas, this incident has angered the emperor—he won’t be able to stay in the capital much longer…”

On the way back to the Duke’s residence, Shen Qianmo’s mind was full of Madam Chu’s sorrowful farewell and Feng Ze’s desolate figure. Feng Ze was the first friend she made here and, as a key figure in her true origin, held special meaning for her.

Yet his refusal of the marriage decree had angered the emperor and might affect his future—all because of her. This made Shen Qianmo feel unsettled.

Stepping through the gates of Wind Lotus Court, she unexpectedly saw a familiar figure.

A man sat in a wheelchair, straight-backed, reading a scroll intently. His black hair was bound, his expression calm, and his simple moon-white brocade robe accentuated his icy elegance—a temperament as refined as jade.

Shen Qianmo stood quietly at the courtyard entrance, inwardly sighing that Meng Yuanheng was becoming ever more pleasing to the eye. Just that profile alone could captivate all, enchanting the world.

Sensing her arrival, Meng Yuanheng turned and, seeing Shen Qianmo, showed a faint smile. He set aside his book and gently wheeled himself over to her.

“Mo’er, you’re back.” His voice was as deep and magnetic as ever.

His easy, natural tone gave Shen Qianmo a sudden illusion—this scene felt like a husband waiting for his wife’s return.

Yet, this was Wind Lotus Court in the Duke’s residence; why was he, who should be at Prince Xuan’s palace, here?

Just as Shen Qianmo was about to ask, Meng Yuanheng pouted slightly, looking aggrieved as he said, “Mo’er, why are you so late? I’m hungry.”